


The me I want to be (the me I can never be)

by Breadyboyo



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sad Richie Tozier, Trans Richie Tozier, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:34:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26755162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breadyboyo/pseuds/Breadyboyo
Summary: Richie looks at a mirror and is hurt. Eddie is there to help.TW for Gender Dysphoria and Transphobic Abuse.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	The me I want to be (the me I can never be)

**Author's Note:**

> hi yes umm i got bored of writing the same three fics so i made this enjoy or not I gues maybe bye cya adios auf wiedershen ciao.

Richie dragged himself out of bed - a nagging feeling trying to pull him back to bed as a sort of premonition of the horrible day he’ll have.

With a groan, he plodded towards his closet - pulling out one of his binders, a pair of jeans, and a white tee shirt along with his favorite button-up that he won’t bother to button up.

Leaving his room, he walked towards the bathroom despite his line of sight being blocked by a pile of clothes - route memorized by memory. He pushed the door handle down with his elbow and pushed the door back close as he entered.

Plopping his attire into the small sink - he discarded his old clothing before looking up into the mirror.

Dark, deep bags were situated beneath his eyes. His hair was more of a mess than usual - sticking out in every direction.

His gaze went from his face to his torso. He grimaced at the sight of his familiar-yet-hated chest. Two medium-sized blobs of useless meat stuck to his body like a sort of parasite he couldn’t get rid of.

The longer he stared at them, the more he felt his fingers twitch at the thought of ripping them off and the chill that slithered up his spine at the thought of being stuck with them forever.

Tears stung his eyes as he felt his knees buckle - dropping him to the tiles beneath him. The memories of his past dysphoria flooded his mind and sight. Wrong pronouns, be it accidental, through ignorance, or intentional; judgemental gazes that seemed to bore holes into his skin; disgusted sneers from his old parents when he didn’t abide by how a girl should act.

His chest tightened as his breath faltered - deteriorating and turning to short, lung-burning gasps.

Curling in on himself, he held his knees close - his body wracking with sobs. His house was empty, Maggie and Wentworth were out of town for the week. With that knowledge, he let the agonized wails leave his trembling lips.

* * *

Eddie sent a glance at his wrist-mounted watch again. Richie was 30 minutes late to their usual meeting point. _‘Richie is fine, I’m just overreacting’_ Eddie thought, reminding himself that punctuality wasn’t one of Richie’s skills in the first place.

When another 15 minutes passed, Richie’s tardiness planted a seed of doubt and worry at the pit of his stomach.

Another 15 minutes passed before he was on his bike - rushing over to Richie’s house to check up on the curly-haired boy. When the familiar cream-colored house came into view, his sudden stop caused his wheels to skid.

Running up to the front door, he noticed the empty driveway as he went to retrieve the spare key Richie had shown him under the doormat.

His hand slotted the key into the hole with no sense of direction almost causing it to miss. With a gentle push, the door creaked open - revealing the dark living room he’s so familiar with.

As he stepped further into the quiet abode, barely audible whimpers and sobs breached his ears, causing him to switch to panic mode.

Following the trail of pained sounds, he climbed the foot of stairs and reached the closed bathroom door - light shining from underneath the gap.

Slowly pushing the door open, his vision was overwhelmed at the sigh of Richie - his best friend since as long as he could remember - naked and crumpled on the ground with his knees pushed up to his face. Pained whimpers and sobs echoed in the small tile room, and his heart broke at the sight and sound of it all.

He knelt down and reached for the trembling, curled-up boy.

* * *

_“Rachel? Can you come downstairs, please?”_

_The sound of his old name made his fingers twitch. Sighing, he jumped off his bed and made his way downstairs._

_His parents were standing with their arms crossed when he got down - a look of discontent on their faces as they started to talk._

_“Rachel we need to-”_

_“I told you, mom. It’s Richie.” He said, cutting her off. That’s when a spark of anger showed on his father’s voice._

_“That’s no way to talk to your mother!” The older man yelled, pointing at him accusingly._

_“Maybe if you got it right for once I wouldn’t need to talk back so much!” Richie snapped back. Something flashed at the edge of his vision, and before he was able to realize what it was, a hand slapped across his cheeks - the force knocking him down._

_Red-hot pain stung his cheeks as he prodded at it before looking up at the perpetrator. His father’s face was furious. Another fist connected with his face as his mother merely stood by and let the horrid action continue._

_“You ungrateful brat! You have food over your plate and a roof above your head, and you act like this!” With each punch, Richie could feel the tears start to leak. “You’re not our daughter! Just give us our daughter back!” he heard the woman scream at him as his eyes flickered close._

_His consciousness slipped from him as the pain and aching overwhelmed him._

* * *

Richie was crying and sobbing and whimpering and, oh, someone was touching his shoulder.

He looked up from his hands - his eyes meeting warm, blue ones; freckles danced across the boy’s cheeks.

“Eddie?” A hoarse voice, which Richie recognized to be his own croaked out. 

“Hey, dude,” Eddie said, a soft smile on his face. “I’m here, okay?”

Richie nodded numbly. He felt his body rise as Eddie guided him to the sink - grabbing a wet towel and rubbing it across Richie’s tear-streaked face.

He stayed quiet the entire time, only making small whimpers or head nods in confirmation when Stan questioned him.

“Do you still want to take a shower?”

With a meek nod, Eddie smiled back and left the bathroom. Stepping into the showers and turning the valve. Cold drops of water splashed against his fair skin as he felt his raging sea of thoughts calm.

With a quick motion, he dried himself on and quickly put on his binder - hiding and constricting the part of his body that would always remind him of his horrid past. Richie stepped out of the bathroom and met Eddie at the entrance to his house. With a nod and a smile, they intertwined their fingers and walked off.

Eddie planted a kiss on his cheek, and he could feel his worries melt away as he returned the kiss with a smile.  


**Author's Note:**

> hope you cried - i feed off your tears.
> 
> (scream at me on Discord: bread#6010)


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